The laughter Xu Hui heard felt utterly ethereal, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere within the room at first, yet its fading resonance lingered near his ear. He instinctively turned his head to check, finding nothing new beside him, but when he looked forward again, the other version of himself across from him had vanished without a trace. Xu Hui couldn't help but freeze slightly, instinctively waving his flashlight around, illuminating the area, but only the vanity table appeared, no other figure showing.

This sudden change unexpectedly brought a sense of loss to Xu Hui; for some reason, he desperately wanted to know what that other self had intended to do just now. The flashlight flickered twice at that moment and abruptly went out. Xu Hui immediately regretted not preparing a more durable "Wolf's Eye" instead of this common utility torch.

He glanced out the window; although the rain hadn't stopped, the sky didn't seem as utterly dark as before, nor was the room so black that he couldn't see his hand before his face. He tossed the flashlight aside and wiped the sweat from his face. Before he could contemplate his next move, that grating friction sound rang out again.

Acting on pure instinct, Xu Hui looked up toward the source of the noise, noticing the vanity table was slowly shifting position once more. A jolt of alarm went through him, his nerves instantly tightening as he watched the table move, wary that it might violently charge toward him. To his surprise, the vanity table merely adjusted its position slowly.

When it settled, the mirror surface was facing directly at Xu Hui. A shiver went through Xu Hui’s heart; he couldn't fathom what this table intended to do to him now. Even knowing there was a ghost in the room, and that all the horror was its doing, the fear that pierced the core of his being and the feeling of utter helplessness continued to press against the limits of his psychological endurance.

The muscles in his face twitched involuntarily a few times. He desperately wanted to tear his gaze away from the mirror, but the surface acted like a bottomless vortex, locking his eyes in place. Unwittingly, Xu Hui had fallen victim to the mirror's spell once again.

He felt that his mind understood clearly, yet his body was utterly beyond his control—not only unable to move but even unable to blink. If the vanity table were to lunge at him now, he would likely have no recourse but to take the impact head-on. But the vanity table did not move again; it simply faced him.

Initially, Xu Hui tried to defocus his vision, struggling not to stare at the glass, but he soon couldn't hold out. Under the forced gaze fixed upon the mirror, the scene reflected within began to appear. This time, he didn't see himself in the reflection; instead, he saw a woman's face.

It was clearly not the face of a living person. Her pale-blue skin was covered in tiny fissures. Her head was slightly bowed, and a pair of completely white eyes stared upward at Xu Hui.

Her blood-red lips curved slightly to one side, as if forming a cold sneer, and long black hair draped down both sides of her cheeks. Xu Hui noticed that only a face appeared in the mirror, with no body visible. He felt the woman's pupil-less white orbs scanning him—up, down, left, and right—as if scrutinizing him.

Gradually, his mind felt wiped clean, his gaze locked onto those white eyes. A wave of profound coldness spread from his eyes throughout his entire body. Suddenly, the talisman hanging on his chest seemed to react.

A burst of dark red light emanated from it. Xu Hui felt a searing, burning pain in his chest. The intense agony rapidly transmitted to his brain, causing him to cry out involuntarily.

He bent over instinctively, raising a hand to press against his sternum. Simultaneously, a flicker of panic seemed to cross the woman’s face in the mirror. The small fissures instantly widened considerably as the red light flared.

The face in the mirror flashed and rapidly retreated backward, vanishing into the distant darkness. Xu Hui's legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor, one hand clutching his chest, the other bracing on the ground, gasping for breath in huge gulps. Sweat dripped steadily from his cheeks onto the floor.

He stared wide-eyed, not from the pain, but because of the scene he had just witnessed, which he couldn't shake off easily. By the time Xu Hui regained his senses, he guessed that the talisman had saved him again. If not for that wave of intense pain, he couldn't imagine the outcome; that state of unconsciousness felt far more terrifying than any previous encounter.

After a long while, he finally managed to compose himself, leaning over to sit on the floor. He let out a long breath, wiping the sweat from his face with his sleeve, and murmured to himself, "Thank you..." Suddenly, a movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye—the white cloth lying on the floor. His heart gave a start.

After striving to steady his breathing, he sprang up, grabbed a piece of the white cloth, rushed a few steps to the vanity table, and snapped the cloth over it. To be honest, he didn't know if this would work, but facing the current situation, any sliver of hope was worth trying. Xu Hui was not one to surrender easily.

The white cloth swished as it descended onto the vanity table. Xu Hui deliberately tied a tight knot using the edges of the cloth, then backed away a few steps, letting out a sigh of relief. He retreated to the wall and carefully unbuttoned his shirt to check his chest.

The skin was only slightly red, showing no other abnormality. Only then did he relax. Unexpectedly, before he could fasten his buttons, he felt a chilling sensation creeping up the back of his neck.

Xu Hui started violently and instinctively rushed a few steps forward, moving away from the wall behind him. Turning back, he almost slapped himself; in a moment of inattention, he had ended up standing right next to those blood-red numerals again. At that moment, the crooked, vivid red number "55" on the wall suddenly changed.

Xu Hui watched as a large red cross was drawn—as if from thin air—over the second "5," immediately followed by the appearance of a similarly sized number "0" drawn right next to it. Xu Hui watched the whole transformation in horror. From beginning to end, it was as if an invisible person were painting in mid-air onto the wall, the blood-like red color striking his eyes with piercing intensity.

He knew this was a reminder: the countdown now stood at fifty minutes. He didn't bother taking out his phone to check; he was sure it would show fifty as well. It seemed the things in this house were determined to remind him of that constantly diminishing number.

He turned his head and looked at the other piece of white cloth he had thrown to the floor earlier. He desperately wanted to use it to wipe away the red numbers, but after a quick thought, he felt doing so would be pointless. Now was the time to focus on keeping his mind calm to deal with whatever might happen next.

He sensed that whatever was in this house wasn't trying to kill him outright; instead, it seemed determined to play with him, watching him descend into madness and eventual collapse—that was its true objective. Just as he was about to shout some taunts at whatever entity was hiding in the shadows to torment him, a clear, distinct knocking suddenly sounded at the door.